The Set Up
by Redderhead
Summary: JOHNLOCK - John goes on a pretend date...only, he doesn't know its pretend with a preconcieved ending. Naughty Sherlock.


The Set-up

_Sherlock's been naughty – but John might just like that._

_Remarkably I still own nothing._

"I'm going out, I've got a date" John called through the door of the living room, obviously unaware that Sherlock stood behind him.

"Tedious" Sherlock said, predictably making the doctor jump in surprise. "Who is she?" He asked as he breezed past his flatmate.

"A model, would you believe it" John said, tugging his collar to order, he smiled proudly, excitedly. Sherlock scowled.

"Good luck" The detective said uncharacteristically as he thumped a mug down on the bunker huffily.

"You ok?" John asked with a sudden frown.

"Tired" Sherlock lied.

"Some sleep then?" John asked with a smile.

"Yes" Sherlock said robotically, moving toward his bedroom without another word.

The detective lay down on his bed with an arm across his face in a 'damsel in distress' kind of way. He heard John happily trot down the stairs and heard him start to whistle before the front door closed with a bang.

Sherlock smiled, he knew exactly how the night was going to play out, but John was not to know that. He smiled further as he admired his own work; asking John who _she _was, brilliant touch of genius if he did say so himself, which he did.

Of course Sherlock knew who she was, he knew the location of their meeting, he wrote the script for their discussion for the evening and he especially knew what the end of the date would involve.

The female in question was 28 year old small time actress Samantha Reddings, she had been hired by Sherlock for a very important evenings' experiment; an experiment that Sherlock had to take part in to further educate his mind in order to solve a case.

Sherlock imagined their meeting in the small pub three streets away, he said aloud Samantha's lines and predicted John's replies. He smirked once more. Perhaps it was time for a shower and a dose of the perfume Samantha had left for Sherlock.

~0~

"So, how did you get into modelling?" John asked with an encouraging smile.

"It was easy really, you just need to have the body" Samantha replied with a flirty smile. "Something that you might assess later tonight if you wish" she said with a raised eyebrow.

John smiled in return and lay a hand on top of Samantha's that lay on the table.

The woman was tall, a little taller than John, her skin was milk white and pulled tight across prominent cheekbones. Her pretty face was framed by brunette curls that only just reached her ears. Her form was slender and delicate, she did not have so many curves as a female should, but she was beautiful none-the-less. Her fingers were dextrous and her nails immaculate. John admired the deep red polish that lined each nail and the silver rings she wore on each hand before he spoke.

"Do you think the night is going that well?" John asked tentatively.

"Don't you?" She asked with a flash of green eyes.

"Yes, yes, very well" John flustered a little, smiling widely. "Wine?" John asked, reaching for the bottle.

"Obviously" She said tonelessly. John halted with the wine bottle poised as he looked at Samantha in a slight horror.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Oh, nothing, you…er…you just reminded me of someone with that, word" John said with a smile, realising how ridiculous that sounded "sorry" he apologised.

"Oh, did I remind you of someone interesting?" She asked with a curious eye.

"Oh, he is very interesting, but you are more so" John said seamlessly. The correct answer by all accounts. John Watson the ladies man never insulted a woman, only left them occasionally to chase across London with his best friend in search of danger and death.

"Who is he?" She pushed with a gorgeous full teeth-displaying smile.

"My flatmate" John said, looking down at their still-joined hands.

"Is he hot?" She asked with a sly grin. "Should we ask him to join us later?" she continued in a whisper and added a wink.

John felt a stirring in his gut at the suggestion.

"No, you wouldn't like him, and he wouldn't like _that_" John said with a laugh.

"But you wouldn't object, would you?" She predicted with a knowing smile.

"I'm not gay" John said tiredly, swigging his drink causally.

"You don't have to be gay just because you appreciate another man" She said reassuringly.

"More bread?" John asked, changing the subject hastily.

~0~

Walking back to Baker Street, John worried. They held hands and it was nice, walking through the quiet streets, if it weren't for the constant feeling of dread that Sherlock would chase away yet another promising girlfriend, John would be very content in that moment.

As it happened, they got back to Baker Street to find a note on the kitchen table explaining that Sherlock would be away at the Morgue for the night; experimenting on dead tissue samples.

John admired how Samantha did not bat an eyelid at the detail of the note, and he immediately took the plunge, kissing Samantha and walking her back ward until she was pinned between him and the kitchen bunker.

"How about we take this to your room?" Samantha asked alluringly.

John didn't need to say a word before he was leading her up the stairs by the hand and into his own room. Glancing around his room, he confirmed that everything was in its rightful place before he led her inside.

"How do you feel about a blindfold?" Samantha asked with a flash of her long eyelashes.

"I'd rather see you" John said huskily, moving forward to grasp her hips tightly.

"I'd like you to wear one, it gets me in the mood" Samantha said just as huskily.

That was enough for John to agree, as they kissed, Samantha took a silk blindfold from her back pocket and tied it tightly over John's eyes, making sure he couldn't see.

"I'm going to freshen up. _You, _don't move" Samantha whispered with a lick to the doctors' ear.

John removed his clothes when he heard the door close behind her and felt around for the bed sheets in order to wait within them. He couldn't believe his luck at this gorgeous woman wanting him so desperately, it made him shiver in anticipation.

~0~

Down stairs, Samantha and Sherlock conversed in whispers.

"He is the type that will like a dominating partner. No dirty talk, just touches, moans, that sort of thing" Samantha advised with a gentle smile. "It's a deep shame, he's a catch, I rather liked him. Don't ruin it" She warned before gently going toward the bathroom and flushing the toilet for Johns' ears before quietly leaving the flat.

Sherlock took a deep breath before ascending the stairs toward a very excited John, the fate of the two of them was in his hands and he had to do it well.

~0~

John was so tempted to remove the blindfold, he felt stupid, lying in bed and waiting on a very sexy woman that he wouldn't be able to see, but he didn't want to ruin it so he kept it on.

He heard the door creak open and footsteps cross the room. He inhaled deeply, knowing he had to impress tonight.

Without much warning, John felt lips upon his and he eagerly responded, his hands immediately finding the short dark hair of his partners' head as he pulled them closer. John felt the lips slow their furious movements and head south down his neck. He sighed contentedly and extended his neck to let the lips continue south. A weight appeared on the mattress beside him and he smiled at the thought of Samantha getting closer. He let his hands cross the curls and felt the prominent cheekbones against his face.

Without warning once more, the lips were removed. John moaned at the loss but shivered as the bed covers were whipped from the bed. Those lips had delved in elsewhere and John couldn't say that he didn't enjoy it. In fact, an odd thing happened when he was swallowed up by his bed mate, the visualisation of Samantha, the beautiful, flawless model, turned into one of his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes. John cried out in pleasure as he imagined that the hair between his fingers belonged to Sherlock, those hands that travelled his skin were the same hands that so effortlessly played violin and could handle a gun, he imagined the full, bow-shaped lips of his friend nestled around him tightly and not the beautiful thin lips of his actual lover.

John instantly felt horrid and pulled the hair in a way that released him from the wet heat of a mouth.

"Kiss me" John muttered as he sought out her face.

He felt a warm breath against his chin and was sure he was loosing his mind. Her breath smelt of coffee and toast, not lasagne and wine. A frown crossed his face as he waited for her lips, but something else caught him off guard. A leg, touching his, as hairy as his own.

"You don't shave?" John asked before he could stop himself.

The answer was a kiss, a rough and ready kiss. Teeth clashed and tongues explored before once more, the lips were yanked away. John felt hands travel his chest and another detail became obvious quite quickly;

"You took off your rings" The doctor stated, before feeling those lips and wet warmth engulf him once more, this time he couldn't help it. "God, Sherlock" John cried out, arching his back at the sensation as it tightened.

Suddenly, Sherlock paused, pulling his mouth away from John, he leaned forward, over the doctor to better study his facial features.

"God, I'm so sorry, Samantha, I-god, I'm sorry" John spluttered as he made to remove the blindfold but a hand on his arm halted his movement.

"How angry would you be, if you knew it really was me and that Samantha was an actress I hired?" Sherlock's husky voice murmured, his wet lips only just touching John's ear.

The breath left John's lungs instantly and his mouth opened in shock. "John" Sherlock said huskily reading the signs.

John eventually answered with a begged; "Let me see you".

Without much movement, Sherlock deftly undid the blindfold and threw it behind him. John instantly took in the view of his almost naked flatmate; his knees placed either side of John's thighs, his hands resting either side of John's head. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils were blown wide.

"You have control, if you want it" Sherlock murmured, his bright eyes fixed on John's dark ones.

John smiled a genuinely happy smile before lifting his head to meet Sherlock's in a gentle kiss.

"I've always wanted to pull rank on you" John whispered when he pulled away, studying Sherlock's face, surprising himself with how husky his voice had become. "But, right now, I'd prefer it if you took me through it" he continued, lifting his head once more in search of a kiss.

"I thought you weren't gay" Sherlock stated with a raised eyebrow, pulling away.

"I can make an exception" John murmured before claiming the detectives' lips with his own.


End file.
